Poetry

Night Terrors

We all have a favourite time of day

Mine is the night,

when it’s dark outside

and the blackness hugs me

like a warm blanket.

*

Life is no longer too bright,

Everything is unclear

so our imaginations can pretend that

Everything is beautiful.

In the dark We control the light.

*

It’s dark outside now,

and I no longer feel alone.

The crowds have gone to sleep

and the world has stopped crying

the tears of the Tortured.

*

But sometimes when it gets dark outside,

I wrap the blanket too tight around me

so the blackness enters my pores

and I struggle to breathe,

suffocated by the night.

*

Its dark outside and

I can’t sleep.

In the darkness my imagination

can only conjure up images of Horror

and I impatiently wait for morning.

*

I wait for the brightness

to shine away fictional Horrors

people will wake up

and I won’t be alone anymore.

The sun will smile, clouds will swim

*

and my night terrors

will dissolve into a nightmare.

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